


Unsolicited Affairs

by vivial



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The Book of Dust - Philip Pullman
Genre: Dark Academia, F/F, F/M, Flirting, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, i'll add more as i write more - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivial/pseuds/vivial
Summary: A collection of one-shots, updated sporadically, about rarepairs and other odd ones from the universe of His Dark Materials & The Book of Dust.
Relationships: George Papadimitriou/Hannah Relf
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Unsolicited Affairs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this idea for some time and it's not as if I haven't got many things to write, but I feel like this is supposed to be short and fun and to the point. I tagged it as Explicit to be safe, but the first entries I'm working on are more steamy than they are smutty, if that makes any sense.
> 
> If you have a pair idea (no bestiality, no underage pairing, all parties consenting, please) feel free to send it my way and I can work something with it. It doesn't have to be major characters, as I love writing about minor characters; if you have an OC woven into the world, I might also tackle a project like that, as long as that OC has some fic that I can read about and back it up.
> 
> This is to be more focused on characters that rarely get fics or even thoughts about lmao

**(** george papadimitriou **/** hannah relf **)**

* * *

“I still don't understand: why did you recruit me?” Hannah asked and he didn't bother looking up.

“You were in the Alethiometer study group.” He said, matter-of-factly, flipping the page of his book carefully, pretending to care little for the topic of their discussion. His daemon, however, fluttered from one shoulder to another.

“So were all the others.” She persisted, not really sure why.

Papadimitriou was cold and distant always; the fact they could stand each other for more than five minutes was a miracle in Hannah's opinion. Jesper was, as usual, like-minded. They didn't like the sulking, formal type of men that were found around Jordan and their endless traditions. St. Sophia's college was austere in its skelleton, but they could afford to - and encourage students to - nurture a mild and pleasant nature. No doubt it had different reasons to be like that, one of them being to teach the girls to be proper ladies, but Hannah believed that niceness overruled the dryness of Jordan scholars.

“It didn't have to be _me._ ” She added when he didn’t reply to her at once. It was unlike him, she knew; he always had an answer ready to everything.

There was a moment of silence. He flipped the pages, once, twice. She lost count, but eventually he looked up and their eyes locked and she felt that shock of pleasant sin she always felt when she did anything that could have upset her mother. It was a childish attitude, of course, Jesper reminded her of that often, but she couldn't help herself.

“You unnerve me.” He said, quietly. He didn't look away.

Hannah scoffed, amused. “That's hardly a good motive to recruit me. You barely know me other than the fact I am a scholar at St. Sophia's.”

“Well, I did my research. I know more than you give me credit for. _”_ He told her, his eyes following as she lowered hers to pay attention to her book again, blushing. Her fingers mindlessly flipping the pages. He hummed a quiet laughter. “You are decent, resourceful and a moralist.”

“And _unnerving.”_ She jested, glancing up for a moment, and he indulged her with a smile. She reciprocated. 

“Yes, _and_ unnerving. It's a compliment.” He said, and finally looked down to his book again. “Not many people unnerve me.”

“That's believable. You have a constant frown!”

He indulged her a grin, which made her grin in return. They went back to their silent reading, which was actually a decoy for what they were truly doing there. They were exchanging reports, more like Hannah passing on her reports to him. The answer to the questions she sent back to them via the mechanical acorn, but Papadimitriou met her on every Saturday, in the morning or afternoon, so she could report to him about the study group.

There wasn't much to report, usually, except every now and again, when St. Sophia received a visit from a Church person or a questionable politician or Hannah saw something in her daily walks that caught her eye.

“Well, this should be it.” He closed the book with a dull thud; they pretended to read to cast aside any suspicion from outsiders, as two scholars in a library was as common as sunlight during the day. “You haven't much to report recently, so maybe we should make this every fortnight instead.”

“Really?” She didn't want to sound disappointed, but there was a hint of it in her voice.

Papadimitriou nodded, breathing out the words.

“It's dangerous to meet so often for no good reason. Deniability is your best weapon. They have reservations towards torturing women, but that doesn't mean they can't hurt you in different ways. I would hate for your paper to be censored; you're onto something very interesting.”

“Of course, you're right.”

They looked at each other, in silence, sunlight warming one side of their faces, coming through the window. Papadimitriou smiled then, warm and amused, his hand held her foot when she lifted it a bit too high for his safety. She retreated at once, blushing. It was just prude flirting, of course, Hannah wouldn’t be that bold to do anything quite publicly; she had removed her shoes when they arrived to stay more comfortable, and when she realised, their legs were brushing - faintly at first, but given he hadn't reproached her, she grew bolder - her silk stocking smooth against the cotton of his trousers. She liked George enough that she didn’t bother to stop, even though perhaps she should have. His students frequented that library; they could be seen and then rumours would spread like wildfire - adding to the ones she already had around, about her romantic affairs. St. Sophia's was bested by Jordan in many fronts, including the rate in which gossip flew around.

“You're full of surprises, Dr Relf.” Papadimitriou chuckled at her.

“Oh, I just try to not be boring.”

“You're never boring, Hannah, I assure you.”

“That's very kind of you to say, George.”

The tip of his finger faintly touched her hand and there was a spark, immediately. Jesper made his way towards his greenfinch, who had landed on the table, and they started whispering in a fiery speed. Then it dawned on her she hadn't checked; she pulled her hand away, slightly, unsure.

“You aren't _married,_ are you?”

He laughed, a bit too loudly for a library, but she delighted in the way his entire body moved, his dark brown skin shining golden-red under the sunlight in the afternoon, the way his collar was slightly crooked because he had moved.

“George! Quiet!” She chided him, and he wiped away a tear.

“Sorry. No, I'm not married. Although that was a little late for you to ask.” His eyes glistened with sly amusement. “You spent the entire afternoon with your leg up to my--”

“George!” She cried out, then covered her hand to shush herself. No one seemed to be around or if they were, they did not mind her.

“Oh come on, you don’t get to do that and then pretend you’re such a prude, Hannah.” He laughed and she looked away flustered, Jesper returning to her shoulder, a bit insulted. _Jordan men,_ they both thought to each other, _always thinking they can say whatever they want._

He stood up and towered over her, Hannah turning to meet his gaze, a small crease between her eyebrows to show her distaste with his attitude, albeit it wasn’t a truthful expression; his hand slid under her jawline, a tight grip against the nape of the neck. He kissed her like Hannah had expected him to: passionate, but exceedingly polite. She was three years older than he was, but he was for all accounts, an old-fashioned man. No misplaced hand, no forceful nature for a man who was somewhat a force of nature.

“Come on, George. I'm sure you can do better than that!” She made fun of him when he pulled away. Their joined fingers lingered for a moment, before she let him go.

She felt a warm feeling run down her spine when he gently pulled her hair away from her face.

“This isn’t exactly an ideal place for a tryst, Dr Relf.”

“Oh, now you want to be respectful?” She taunted him but he shook his head, smiling.

They made plans to meet later that night, at his room in Pilgrim's Tower instead of her home, which was quite a walk for her. She told him that much and he shrugged.

“Someone might see me at your place, it would attract too much attention. To _you_ , that's my concern.” He kissed her before walking out, almost chastely. “A woman visiting a male scholar is less scandalous, and no one minds what I do. Privileges of my status, you could say.”

_He is right,_ Hannah thought, gathering her things, her skin riled up from the bold contact. Jesper tried to put the color off her burning cheeks. _The unfairness of the world._


End file.
